Save The Last Dance
by BelovedOne
Summary: Named for the movie that inspired me (not based on it). A story of Sara's past, of a gift she was given long ago, and the love she found then that returns to her now. ***CHAPTER 14 POSTED*** Where important discussions take place...
1. Past Tense

SUMMARY: I'm starting this story deep in Sara's past and moving on to the beginning of the second season. Read as if the first season happened, but, since I've never seen the original movie or any 1st season epis, I can't really include any information from that season.

SAVE THE LAST DANCE

**Chapter 1**

Seventeen-year-old Sara Pezzini trudged towards her school, hands jammed in her pockets. Her chestnut hair was thrown into her face by a light breeze, but she paid it no mind. Her green eyes flashed as they studied the ground before her. She looked up briefly as a movement behind her caught her attention, but her eyes returned to the cement sidewalk a moment later. She turned the last corner and walked slowly across the street to the building that served as her school. The thundering sound of students' hallway conversations assaulted her ears as she opened the front door. She quickly made for her locker, twisting the combination lock and yanking it open. Grabbing her books, she slammed it shut and went to her first class of the day.

Later that same day, as she left school, Sara couldn't help but think of how it might have been had her father not been killed. She had no one—well, almost no one. Captain Joe Siri, her father's friend, looked out for her, but had he known the life she lived, he would have been horrified. Sara lived on the streets, roaming to wherever she could find a place to spend the night. Most days, she ate nothing. She had no friends, no one to trust here. Only Joe. And he couldn't know about any of this. Sara was too ashamed of her life to tell Joe. She was too stubborn to try and get some help. And so she lived here, with only a backpack of clothes and a picture of her mother and father. She still attended school each day, doing what she could. She spent all of her extra time split between working out, practicing the things her father had taught her, and the public library, where she did all of her homework. She had to go to school. If she didn't, then she could never become a homicide detective like Daddy. He had been everything to her, and now he was gone. Murdered. And she was left with nothing. She was not able to pay the bills, and the house was foreclosed upon, leaving her homeless. The folks who'd come to foreclose hadn't known that anyone lived there. Oddly, though, Sara had never cried. Since the day James Pezzini had died, she hadn't shed a tear. She cut off all of her emotions, locking them away behind a protective wall she built around her heart. She would never let anyone get close to her again. Never.

********

The next day, Sara slipped through the front doors of the school and ran into someone. Hard. Strong hands steadied her quickly, and hazel eyes locked with her own.

"Are you all right?" the young man asked, concern crossing his handsome face.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah. Sorry."

"No, no, it was my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going. I'm so sorry. My name is Ian Nottingham. What's yours?"

"S-Sara Pezzini," she stuttered.

"Sara." He smiled, an expression that lit up his features. "That's beautiful. Suits you."

She blushed. "Uh, thanks, I guess." His fingertips caressed her cheek for a moment, tracing her jawline. He realized himself and pulled away, but not before he left her breathless. He had actually touched her without looking revolted or disgusted. How was that possible? She was ugly. She knew it, and she knew that everyone else knew it. But his words were filled with something akin to reverence as his eyes took her in, then searched her own. He found nothing in those beautiful green eyes. What was supposed to be the window to her soul was empty, cold, barren. Nothing remained there, exept the anger that sprang forth so easily these days. Neither tear nor laughter had touched these eyes for an eternity. His own eyes filled with pain as he looked upon this woman who was but a girl left bereft and unemotional by some enormous tragedy. He could not think what could do this to a person, what could leave them so empty and so cold that one could tangibly feel it when they stood close. Mistaking the pain in his eyes for disgust, she pulled away from what invisible bonds held her there, running to her locker to retrieve her books. But for the rest of the day, she could not get out of her head the vision of the face of the first person to actually look at her since her father's death.

********

"Sara." The voice combined with the gentle touch on her shoulder made her jump and spin around quickly, her body instinctively taking on a fighting stance. He held up his hands in a surrendering gesture, and she forced herself to relax a little.

"W-what?"

"Will you eat lunch with me today? I'd like you to sit with me, if you'd like."

Her cheeks colored as she looked down at the floor, embarassed. "I don't have a lunch."

He looked stricken. Then, he said softly, "Then I'll buy you something."

Before she could object, he took her by the elbow and steered her gently towards the cafeteria, where he bought two lunches and sat them down at a table at the far end of the room. Staring at the plate heaped with food, Sara picked up her fork with a trembling hand and took a tiny bite, then another. She had only eaten small amount when she felt her stomach began to protest at the sudden introduction of so much food to her system. She set down her fork and clasped her hands in her lap, staring down at them silently.

He stopped eating. "Aren't you hungry?"

She shook her head, ashamed to have wasted the food. For the first time, he seemed to realize how thin and malnourished she was. She was strong, yes, and her muscles were well-developed, but she was definitely underweight.

"Don't you ever eat?"

Again, she shook her head. Suddenly, something within her broke, and she spilled her story to him. Something about his eyes, the kindness she found there, made her tell him everything that had been tearing at her for so many years. He looked utterly shocked, but then he took her quickly took her into his arms, embracing her, warming her.

From that day on, for months, they spent every lunch together, growing closer and becoming friends.

A year after their initial meeting, that friendship seemed to develop into something more. They were eating lunch side-by-side one day when Ian glanced over at her. Her appetite had returned, though she still didn't eat very much. He gazed at her until the feel of his stare drew her attention. She paused with her fork halfway between her plate and her mouth.

"What?"

"You're beautiful, you know that?"

She ducked her head to hide the blush that crept up her cheeks. He brought his hand to her face, feeling the smooth, satiny skin that he loved. Her hand came up to cover his, and, as their hands touched, their eyes met. They stayed that way for a long time, his hand on her, her hand on his, eyes locked.

"I…I love you, Sara." His thumb began to unconsciously stroke her lips, and her eyes closed at the sensation.

"I love you, too, Ian." Her eyes opened as his hand stilled, their eyes locking once more as they moved closer and closer to one another. Their lips touched lightly, and then her arms went around his neck as he pulled her onto his lap, exploring the depths of her mouth.

They broke apart a moment later, breathless.

"Um, Ian?"

"Yeah?"

"You know how I said I didn't want anything for my eighteenth birthday?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I changed my mind. I want you."

********

With Ian's help and some money she'd earned in a job she'd managed to get, Sara had been able to get a tiny apartment a short while back, and they went there after school on her birthday. They had now been "together" for six months, and had come to the mutual agreement that it was time to take the next step in their relationship. They entered the bedroom together, then turned to gaze at each other. Their lips met gently, lovingly. The embrace grew more passionate, and they fell back onto the bed. Slowly, reverantly, he undressed her, silently asking permission before removing each piece of clothing. She helped him out of his shirt and pants, her hands roaming every inch of bared skin. Her fingertips grazed the sensitive flesh at the small of his back, and he shivered. His lips met hers again, then traveled slowly down her jaw and neck to her shoulder. He nudged her bra strap aside as he nuzzled her soft, pale skin, letting the strap slip down her arm. The rest soon followed as he lovingly explored her, inch by inch. She gasped as he took her breast with his mouth, her chest heaving as he traveled down her belly to the last obstacle between them. He looked up at her, his love filling his eyes as they asked her for her consent. She nodded, and he removed the offending garment. He tasted her sweet flesh again and again until she thought she might burst, then hovered over her, his face even with hers. With one swift, gentle movement, he entered her, eliciting twin gasps from them both. He began to move within her, drawing a moan from her. Soon, they were moving together, achieving a rhythm that became chaotic as they spiraled higher and higher in the sensations of first love. They called out each other's names as they felt waves of release begin to roll over them. Still joined and still quivering, they spooned together, falling into the first deep, dreamless, restful sleep either had had in far too long.

********

They awoke several hours later, he nuzzling her neck lovingly as she shifted. They both gasped as he slipped from her, and she moaned softly at the loss. He completed her in every way, his love buoying her, carrying her. They parted ways a short time later, a kiss their only goodbye. He headed for home, leaving her in the tiny apartment. She never saw him again.

********

She graduated nearly three months later, but he wasn't there. Broken-hearted, she returned home. The next morning found her being sick to her stomach, paying tribute to the porcelain god. She sagged against the wall tiredly, wiping her mouth. She dragged herself up and walked the thirteen blocks to the nearest hospital. They examined her and drew blood to run some tests. They came back a little later with the results--she was eleven weeks pregnant. In shock, she returned home.

Then, she did something she hadn't done for a very long time…

     …She cried.

********

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	2. Mama

AN: OK, since you guys asked, I am reposting everything I've written so far for two reasons—1) because I had to remove them temporarily for reasons I'd rather not explain, and 2) because I finally figured out how to upload it with formatting intact. Thanks for your patience here, stories will (hopefully) be updated once a week, on Mondays.

Save The Last Dance

Chapter Two 

Five months after Sara discovered her pregnancy, she received a phone call that turned her world upside down.

"Miss Sara Pezzini?"

"Yes?"

"For the record, could you please state your full name?"

"Sara Magdalene Pezzini. Why?"

"This is the insurance company your father invested in. James Pezzini had a policy with us. Would you be able to come down to our office to receive your money?"

"Yes, yes, of course. When?"

"When can you be here?"

"How about in an hour?"

"See you then, Miss Pezzini."

********

Sara tugged nervously on her jacket, trying to pull it further down over her swollen belly. She was eight months along, and her stomach had grown to unbelievable proportions. She waited impatiently for them to call her up. When they did, she was directed to the first office on the left. She entered and waited for the man at the desk to end his phone conversation.

"Hello! How can I help you?"

"Uh, Sara Pezzini. You called me--"

"Ah, yes, James Pezzini's daughter. Would you like to sit down?" He was eyeing her belly as if it were a time bomb set to go off at any moment.

"Don't worry, I'm not due for another month. Now what is this all about?"

Visibly relaxing, he stood to shut the door, then returned to his desk. "You are the only living member of his immediate family, yes?"

"Mm-hm."

"You are then the recipient of his $250,000 life insurance policy."

Sara's jaw dropped.

********

With the money, Sara bought a larger apartment, a loft with plenty of room for her and the baby. She also bought a Buell motorcycle for transportation. She then went to a baby supply store and bought everything she'd need for her child--crib, changing table, high chair, bassinet, bouncy seat, bottles, diapers, undershirts, clothing, blankets, toys, burp rags, everything she knew a baby would need and more. By the time she was just a week away from her due date, the nursery was ready. Finally, she put in an application to "Cop School," as she called it. Once the baby was born and she'd had some time to adjust, Sara would be attending a college just five minutes from where she lived. Everything seemed to be falling into place for once, and Sara was happy.

********

"Push, Sara!"

"_You_ push, damn it!"

"Come on! I see the head! One more! There you go!"

Sara gave one last mighty effort, and felt her child slide from her body. Gasping, she looked down at the doctor as a lusty cry filled the room.

"It's a girl, Sara."

Tears began to course down her cheeks as the doctor handed her daughter. Cradling the tiny babe, Sara thanked God for this moment. She had a daughter, a beautiful daughter! Pulling the blanket back a little, Sara saw that the baby had thick tufts of dark hair, the same shade as her own. Her eyes were the undecided blue of a newborn, but Sara could swear she saw a hint of green in there somewhere.

She went home the next day, little Michelle held tightly to her breast. She walked carefully up to the nursery and laid her sleeping daughter in the brand new crib. She stared down at the sleeping girl for a long time before her growling stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten since breakfast. She went down to fix something for herself, listening hard for any sounds from her baby. She ate in record time, rushing back up to watch her little one again. For hours she sat there, observing this perfect little being she'd carried within her for nine long months. She was finally here, and Sara didn't know what to do with herself. She had examined her daughter carefully, taking in the ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes. She'd never thought she could get so soft about something, but here she was, an old—young?—softy when it came to her baby. Joe Siri came to visit a few times, and Sara sensed that he was both greatly surprised and slightly dismayed at her early pregnancy, but he was wonderful with Michelle the first time he met her. The infant giggled whenever the usually gruff man would make a funny face at her. He was also immensely pleased that she'd decided to go to college to become a homicide detective. It was gruesome work, but he knew Sara had it in her to do it, just like her father had.

When Sara first left her daughter in daycare so that she could go to college, she was fretful and overprotective. But, as the year wore on, she relaxed slightly. She aced her way through her classes and entered into the 11th Precinct. Her partner was one Danny Woo, a man who took being assigned a rookie—and a woman, no less!—as a major blow to his "manliness". He was patient, however, and she soon wormed her way into his friendship, what with her quirky sense of humor, her always-present sarcasm, and her treat-me-like-all-the-other-guys-here attitude. She was rough and tough and could take a hit with the best of them. He began watching her work out, and was a little surprised at her agility and strength. He walked up to her one day as she beat the stuffing out of a punching bag. She didn't realize he was there until her gloved fist connected with the side of his head, and he doubled over for a moment.

"Oh, geez, I'm sorry!" she cried, immediately kneeling down as he shook his head to clear it. She saw his face and relaxed. "Oh, it's _you."_ He shot her a dirty look as they both straightened. He held the bag for her as she began attacking it with a volley of strong jabs that made him waver a little. After ten minutes of this, she finally stopped, sweaty and exhausted. She glanced down at her watch and started. "Oh, God, I'm gonna be late!" Within two breaths, she'd stripped off her gloves, stored her equipment, and was gone.

He blinked, shook his head, and left.

********

Sara raced out to her Buell, barely restraining herself from speeding as she headed for the daycare center. Five minutes later, she roared into the parking lot and jumped off the bike, running inside. She lifted her daughter from the floor, hugging her tightly. The toddler touched her face, then cried, "Mama!"

"Yes, baby." Turning to the center's manager, she said, "Sorry I'm late. I stayed after to work out for a few minutes in the gym."

"Quite all right, quite all right. We love having Michelle around. Just don't make it a habit." She grinned at the young mother. Sara carried Michelle out to the bike, pulled out the baby seat she stored in one of the small saddlebags, and strapped her in. She put on the tiny helmet she had gotten for her, then slipped her own back on and revved the engine. She looked back at her baby girl and saw that she was giggling and clapping her hands gleefully at the sound of the bike's engine. Shaking her head, Sara rode out of the parking lot towards home.

********

At the end of the shift the next day, Danny inquired as to why she had rushed out of the gym in such a hurry the previous afternoon. She shrugged.

"What, you got family to take care of?" he asked.

"Yeah, actually, I have a little girl."

"Really? How old?"

"Three."

"Wow. My wife and I just found out that we are expecting our first baby in about eight months. Hey—why don't we go to your place and finish this up. That way, you can spend some time with the kid while you work."

Sara brightened. "That's fine with me."

********

He followed Sara's bike in his car until they reached the daycare. She ran in to get Michelle, then headed for home, Danny on her tail. The walked in, Danny holding the bubbly three-year-old. She'd taken an immediate liking to him, and was talking non-stop.

"Unca Danny! You my Unca Danny! Can I have a hug? Please? Tank you." Her darling lisp made her words sound even more adorable than usual as she chattered Danny's ear off. "I wuv you! You nice, Unca Danny! Do you tink I'm cute?" she demanded.

"She _certainly_ didn't get that straightforwardness from her mother," he muttered sarcastically. "Yes, you're _very_ cute."

"Tank you." She turned woeful eyes onto Sara. "Mama, I hungry!"

Sara set her up with some crackers and toys on a blanket on the floor, and they got down to work.

An hour later, Sara gave up. For the third time in a row, Danny was sitting on the floor with her daughter, playing.

"Okay, what's this one?" he asked, holding up one of the alphabet blocks.

"M!" Michelle said proudly.

"How 'bout this one?" He held up another.

"T!" came the exuberant answer.

"That's right! All right, how about…this one?"

She looked perplexed for a moment.

Sara glanced up from her paperwork. "Danny! That's not a letter, that's a number—"

"Five!"

They both looked over at the toddler in surprise. She just grinned up at them.

********

The next day, Danny suggested they come back to her house again for paperwork. Once again, Sara was up to her ears in paperwork, and once again, Danny was playing on the floor with her daughter.

"What's this?"

"Nose!"

"This?"

"Mouth!"

"This?"

"Ear!"

"Danny!"

"Whaaaat?"

"We kinda have some paperwork that _kinda_ needs to get done, so you **_kinda_** gotta get your butt into gear!"

Sighing, he stood slowly and came back to the table, digging into his half of the paperwork. In the background was the sound of little feet scampering back and forth across the hard floor. Through the kitchen. To the bedroom. Around the living room furniture. Through the kitchen. To the bedroom. Around the living room furniture. Through the kitchen. To the bedroom. Around the living room furniture. They stopped. Sara looked up when she noticed how quiet it had become. She got up and went looking for the little girl, Danny right behind her. She checked throughout the kitchen. Not there. The bedroom. Not there. The living room…Sara chuckled. Michelle was curled up on the floor, thumb shoved in her mouth, fast asleep. Sara lifted her daughter up carefully and took her to her room to put her down for a nap.

********


	3. Destiny

SAVE THE LAST DANCE

**Chapter 3**

***EIGHT YEARS LATER***

Sara grabbed her wallet, keys, and black leather jacket and called for her daughter.

"Michelle, hurry! Your bus is gonna be here in less than ten minutes!"

"Coming!" The eleven-year-old's feet slid across the hardwood floor as she struggled to put on her shoes while running. She slipped out the door, Sara close on her tail. Sighing, Sara opened the door again and grabbed both of their helmets. She drove Michelle down to the corner, dropped her off, and sped towards the 11th Precinct. Today was not the day to be late.

Today, she would confront the killer of her childhood friend, Maria Buzanis. Tommy Gallo was a dead man. The tires of her Buell squealed as she took a corner too fast, and she righted herself just in time to take another corner just as sharp. She screeched to a timely halt in the Precinct parking lot, killed the engine, and jogged inside. Danny was already in his seat in their office by the time she arrived, and their new rookie, Jake McCartey, was leaning against the far wall.

"Hey, Pez."

"Hey."

"Such a conversationalist—"

"Shut it, Rookie."

"Sorry."

********

They sat in their parked car, waiting for Gallo to show. Finally, he and one of his associates came out of the building across the street, conversing quietly.

Sara burst from the car, followed closely by Danny, as she moved to confront Gallo.

A short, meaningless conversation ensued, and then Danny and the other man got into a struggle. Danny was knocked to the ground and the man ran, but Sara was close on his heels. She followed him into the Midtown Museum, lost track of him, and was drawn to a case in one of the vast rooms. It contained a gauntlet of some sort, one that had supposedly belonged to Joan of Arc. On what could have been the wrist segment of the lower-arm-shaped piece of armor, a bulbous protrusion opened, revealing a blood-red stone that seemed to glow from deep within. The glow faded and it closed tightly. As Sara moved to stand, she caught sight of a shadowy reflection in the clear glass of the display case. She whirled around, gun out, and found herself staring into a very familiar face. 

"Magnificent, isn't it?"

"You!"

It was Ian Nottingham.

He disappeared before she could say more, revealing behind him the man she'd been chasing before. She ran after him, and a gunfight quickly ensued. Her gun was shot out of her hand, and she reached for her back-up piece in her ankle holster, spraying a few shots in his direction. It was no use, however, as he cornered her just moments later. One of his wild shots hit the Joan of Arc display case, sending the gauntlet within flying in Sara's direction. She leapt to avoid his next shots, and the gauntlet moved out ahead of her, slipping onto her forearm. She landed and fell into a crouching position as he bore down on her, gun blazing. A bullet came straight for her, and she instinctively ducked her head, hiding it behind the strange metal armor she suddenly found her arm encased in. The bullet bounced off harmlessly, and another came her way. This one, too, rebounded, and headed straight for an old pipe in the corner.

The musuem exploded.

********

Sara looked down at the bracelet in her hand, wondering how in the hell it had gotten there. She turned it over and over, examining it, searching for clues that didn't exist. The only things she could remember were the chase, the gunfight…and Ian Nottingham.

After all these years, _now_ he came back?

She absently slipped the bracelet on.

She'd deal with it later.

********

"Mama, what is that?" Michelle asked curiously, fingering the bracelet on her mother's wrist later that evening.

"It's a bracelet I found earlier today, baby."

"Where'd you find it?"

"I don't really know."

"Oh. Mama?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's my daddy?"

Sara inhaled sharply. "Why do you ask?"

"'Cause some of the other kids at school were talking about what their daddies did for work, and I don't have a daddy, so I couldn't say anything."

Taking a deep breath, Sara said truthfully, "I don't exactly know, baby."

"But I do have one?" the young girl asked hopefully, her eyes brightening a little.

"Yes, you do."

"Okay."

With that said, the girl curled up on her mother's lap. Sara breathed a sigh of relief, stroking her daughter's hair gently.

********

Ian Nottingham crouched on the fire escape, peering into the window of Sara Pezzini's apartment. He watched as Sara carried a sleeping child into the bedroom, laid her on one side of the bed, changed into a tank top and shorts, and crawled in beside her. Over the past month, he had observed her, and had come to the conclusion that this must be her daughter. The child seemed familiar, somehow. It hurt him to be away from his beloved Sara. For nearly twelve years, he hadn't been able to contact her to tell her the truth of his abandonment of her—Irons had found out about their tryst, and had been infuriated, for some reason. Ian knew why now, but he had been horrified to discover that he would never be able to return to her. Their one glorious night together had been his only light in the darkness of his past years. It kept him sane; it kept him from giving up. The bracelet on his beloved's right wrist glowed faintly, and he knew the Witchblade sensed his presence. His eyes turned involuntarily to the young child curled in her arms. She had her mother's silky chestnut locks and mischievous green eyes. He hoped she hadn't inherited all of her mother's "attributes," however. Sara could be a little…aggressive, as he had seen watching her take down criminals. He also hoped that her beauty, intelligence, wit, grace, talent, and strength—both of character and of body—were passed down to her offspring. He twitched. The child was unnervingly familiar. He shifted his weight and tried to avert his gaze, but he found he could not. The child's eyes suddenly opened, focusing instantly on him. He jumped back, out of sight, but it was too late. She had seen him. He waited several moments, then carefully moved back to his previous position, relieved to see that the child was sleeping once more. She was perceptive, that was for sure. Too perceptive. He couldn't shake this feeling about her…she was so frustratingly familiar.

********

The next morning, as Sara rolled out of bed, she noticed the Witchblade was glowing softly, light swirling round and round within the stone. She stared at it for a moment before dressing and moving into the kitchen. As she scrambled some eggs for breakfast, she felt a pair of small arms go round her slim waist.

"Mama?"

"Yes?"

"Is breakfast ready yet?"

"Almost."

"Okay. And Mama?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Who was that man outside the window last night?"

Sara turned abruptly. "What?"

"The man—he was dressed all in black, and when I saw him, he disappeared, but then he came back. He was on the fire escape."

_Ian. Ian Nottingham._

Gathering her daughter into a quick embrace, Sara said, "I don't know who he was, but I'll find out and take care of it, okay?"

"Okay."

********

"Danny, I need you to get me all the information you can on a guy named Ian Nottingham. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah, sure. Why?"

"Just get it as soon as possible."

"Yes, ma'am."

********

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	4. Discoveries

SAVE THE LAST DANCE

**Chapter 4**

"Hey, Pez?"

"Yeah?"

"I got that information you wanted."

"What'd you find out?"

"Not much. He keeps a pretty low profile, but I was able to find out that he's Kenneth Irons' head of security."

"Kenneth Irons? _The_ Kenneth Irons?"

"Yeah. You want his address?"

********

Sara glanced down at the slip of paper she held. On it was the address Danny had given her. _1111 Faust Street._ Tucking it back into the packet of her jacket, she looked up at the sprawling mansion before her. Taking a deep breath, she revved the engine and sped up to the front gate. At her approach, the gate swung inward silently. Cautiously, she crept up the long drive. Security cameras zoomed in on her, following her as she dismounted, set her helmet on the seat, and walked up to the front door. Gooseflesh rose all over her body as she observed the expansive grounds. There wasn't a sign of intelligent life anywhere. She lifted a hand to press the door chime button and froze as the door swung open to reveal tall, lanky man in a butler's uniform.

"Please, come in. Master Irons is expecting you."

Sara stepped inside, and was immediately whisked up three flights of stairs, down two corridors, and ushered into a large room. A fire crackled in the enormous hearth, warming the room.

"Hello, Sara."

Sara turned quickly to find the source of the voice. A man with pale blonde, almost white, hair and ice-blue eyes sat behind a large desk at the far end of the room. His hands were clasped in front of him, and he was watching her as if she were a bug to be squashed beneath his heel, far below him in every way.

This guy had a _major superiority complex._

"Please, sit." He gestured to the comfortable-looking wing-backed chair across from him.

Sara shook her head. "No thanks, I'll stand."

"Sit."

She sat.

"Good. Now, what did you wish to speak to me about?"

Clearing her throat, Sara said, "I believe you have an Ian Nottingham in your employment—"

"Yes, he is my Chief of Security. Surely he hasn't made any trouble?"

"Not exactly. You see, he's been…following me lately."

"Following you? Ian? I'm quite sure you are mistaken."

"He was on my fire escape last night, and he scared my little girl."

"Did he? Well, I'll be sure to speak to him for you. Now, if you would, Detective?"

Sara stood to leave. "With pleasure."

As she stepped outside, Sara thought, _No intelligent life in **there,** either._

********

Ian watched Sara pick up her daughter from the bus stop and drive home from his vantage point on the roof of a nearby apartment building. His blank expression gave no hint of the pain that came with each movement, each breath. He felt blood trickle down his back from one of the deep lacerations there. He could feel the deep bruises across his chest and abdomen, turning the front of his torso into something resembling a pillar of marble. Hand in hand, Sara and the small girl climbed to their apartment, disappearing inside. Ian moved so that he could see inside Sara's loft apartment. Not finding the view to his liking, Ian crouched, then sprang up, using his momentum to leap through the air, landing fluidly on a fire escape two floors below Sara's, twenty-five feet from his previous position. He climbed nimbly up the two railings, swinging his legs up and over his own body as he braced himself with his gloved hands. As he landed silently on the platform just outside Sara's window, the effects of the beating Irons had given him earlier made themselves known again. He felt more blood begin to flow from his wounds, soaking his layers of clothing.

And still he watched.

As he observed the Pezzinis, the young girl's bare right hand brushed the ancient bracelet on her mother's right wrist. The instant her skin came into contact with the sentient weapon, a barrage of images exploded in Ian's mind.

_***8-year-old Michelle excitedly showing her mother the drawing she'd made for her at school.***_

_***5-year-old Michelle, dark hair in pigtails, bouncing off of the bus and running into her mother's arms, telling her ecstatically of her first day at school.***_

_***3-year-old Michelle being picked up from daycare by her mother. Danny Woo holding her, playing with her delightedly as Sara tries to do paperwork at the kitchen table.***_

_***1-year-old Michelle saying her first word—"Mama!"—sitting up, crawling, and standing alone for the first times. Taking her first solo step, Sara gathering her up into a warm, loving, congratulatory embrace.***_

_***An infant Michelle, squealing happily as her mother tickles her belly while changing her diaper.***_

_***Eighteen-year-old Sara straining, exhaustedly trying to push her reluctant child from her body. A baby's first cry. Sara holding her newborn daughter for the first time, tears of happiness streaming down her face as her daughter suckles noisily at her breast, accepting her first meal eagerly.***_

_***Sara asleep in bed, her arms cradling her round belly, smiling as she feels the baby kick.***_

The last vision that touched his mind's eyes was different from all the others.

It replayed the night he and Sara had spent together, all those years ago.

When the Witchblade finally released him from its grasp, it hit him.

_"Oh, my God."_

He was watching his beloved Sara play with _their_ daughter.

********

As she watched her daughter do her school work, Sara felt the Witchblade warm on her wrist. She felt it reaching for something close by…or someone. She whirled quickly and searched the shadows outside the window for the one she knew was there. There! She saw him, kneeling, trembling. The anger she'd felt momentarily evaporated, leaving only curiosity in its place. She moved to the window, watching him. He wasn't moving, just staring straight ahead, his eyes glazed over. The Witchblade was showing him a vision—that was the odd tug she'd felt from the bracelet. He blinked suddenly, coming back to his senses, and his eyes fell on her as he said something under his breath. Upon seeing his eyes focused on her, Sara's anger returned full force. She yanked open the window and grabbed him by the collar, jerking him inside. He immediately stood with his feet apart, his hands clasped behind his back, and his head bowed. Sara took his chin in her hand—she was careful to use her left one—and forced him to look her in the eye.

"What are you doing here?" she fumed.

"Watching over you, Lady Sara."

"Watching over me? More like stalking me!"

"I am your Protector, I must fulfill my destiny."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I Protect the Wielder. My predecessors and I have done so since the first Wielder emerged."

"Why have you come back after all these years? Huh? Can you give me one good reason why you would sleep with me, let me give myself to you fully, and then never come back again? How could you do that to me?!"

"It was not my choice, milady."

"Excuse me?!"

"I wished to remain with you, but I was forced to leave you."

"Really? And who forced you to stay away from me, huh?"

"My master."

"Your—your _what?!"_

"My master, Kenneth Irons."

"Well, I take it he didn't talk to you about the visit I paid to him yesterday?"

"He…spoke to me, yes." Ian's eyes dropped once more to the floor.

"Oh, really? What did he say?"

Ian turned slowly, pulling off his jacket, sweater, turtleneck, t-shirt, and tank top. As he pulled the last layer off, Sara gasped in horror. Old scars criss-crossed over his back, one on top of the other, and the newest wounds were still oozing blood.

"Wh—?" Sara was unable to speak.

"He was…unhappy that I let you see me. This was my punishment."

"Oh, God." Sara sank to her knees, one hand over her mouth as she tried to register this new knowledge. "How could he do that to you? How could—how could he hurt you like that?"

"I deserved it."

"No! _NO!"_ Sara's anger towards Ian had dissipated, and she now stood, turning him to face her. Taking his face in her hands, she continued, "You deserve no such thing! He—he's a monster!" Ian looked away, ashamed of himself. "Was he the one who kept you from me? Did you truly want to stay with me? Or was it just a one night thing?"

"No! Lady Sara, I love you with all my heart! I would never intentionally hurt you, or let anyone else do so! Yes, it was he, and yes, I truly wanted to be with you…for a lifetime."

Sara was silent for a long moment, then slowly pressed her lips to his in a gentle, chaste kiss that took their breath away. She pulled away, love shining in her eyes as she then embraced him, careful not to disturb his torn flesh.

"Come on," she said softly. "Let's get you cleaned up."

********


	5. Healing

SAVE THE LAST DANCE

**Chapter 5**

Sara led Ian to the bathroom, where she sat him down and began to carefully clean his wounds.

"Ian?" she said softly.

"Yes, milady?"

"How long has he been doing this to you?"

"Since the day we last met."

_"Eleven_ years?"

"Yes, Lady Sara."

"Please. Just call me Sara."

"Yes, mi—yes, Sara."

"And Ian?"

"Yes…Sara?"

"Did you really mean what you said? That you wanted to be with me for a lifetime?"

"Always and forever, my Sara."

Sara paused for a moment in her ministrations, and he turned to see what was wrong. She looked deeply into his eyes for a long moment, then pressed her lips to his once more, putting all of her love for him into the sweet touch. The kiss deepened, and, as they embraced, silver tendrils snaked out from the bracelet on Sara's right wrist and sank into Ian's own wrist. They both gasped as they pulled apart, watching the pulsing streams of liquid metal as they twined around their joined right hands. Then, as suddenly as the tendrils had appeared, they retreated, leaving only two tiny puncture wounds in the tender skin of his right wrist. They stared at one another for a moment before Sara pulled back further, indicating that he should turn back around.

When he complied, Sara was rendered utterly speechless.

His back was smooth and unblemished—there was no sign of the bloody mess that had been there just moments ago.

He was completely healed.

"Ian, you—you're healed! All of it—the blood, the cuts, the old scars—they're all gone!!" Sara said softly, her voice tinged with reverence at this miracle.

Ian turned. "It was the Witchblade. It sensed who I was, recognized me as your Protector, and it felt the love you must truly have for me."

Sara looked down at the bracelet, thanking it silently. She looked up at the dark man before her.

"Ian, I'm sorry I was angry with you—"

"You were hurt badly. I understand."

And as Sara looked into his eyes again, she saw that he truly did understand.

She saw the hurt that he, too, had felt—and still felt—at their forced separation.

Kissing him lightly once again, she took him into her bedroom, where she pulled an over-sized shirt from a dresser drawer and handed it to him.

She waited for him to don it, then said, "Ian…come meet your daughter…our daughter."

********


	6. Daddy's Back

AN: This chapter is a little more focused on Michelle, as was asked. Hope you enjoy!

**SAVE THE LAST DANCE**

**Chapter 6**

Sara took Ian's hand in hers as they walked to the kitchen in silence. At the sound of their footsteps, Michelle looked up from her homework, and her mouth formed an O. She stared at the dark-haired man standing beside her mother.

Sara let go of Ian's hand and knelt beside her—their—daughter. "Honey, there's someone I'd like you to meet." She looked up at her new-found, long-time beloved Ian. "This is Ian Nottingham." She took a deep breath. "He's your father."

The girl stared at Ian for a full five seconds before standing and moving closer to him. When she was just a foot away, Ian knelt down to her level. She examined him from head to toe with those eyes—damn if they weren't her mother's own eyes, straight from her head—with a look he'd seen Sara use many times when sizing a person up to see if they could be trusted. Her green eyes then focused on his own hazel ones, and she moved a little closer as she searched them. He suddenly found her arms around his neck as she embraced him tightly, squealing with happiness. She let him go after a moment, her eyes bright.

"Can—can I call you Daddy?" she asked, sobering slightly.

Despite himself, tears sprang to his eyes. "Yes, Michelle, you may."

The youngster's eyes filled with wonder as she turned to her mother. "Mama, I have a Daddy!"

"Yes, you do," Sara said quietly as she moved once again to Ian's side, embracing him tightly. A moment later, another pair of arms circled them both—or tried to, at least.

Ian pulled his beloved and his daughter close. _My family. Our family._

********

Sara had had to pry Michelle away from Ian so that he could leave, and the girl had bid him farewell only after he'd promised four times that he would be back very soon. Michelle was bubbling with excitement even now, three hours later. Sara was relieved that Michelle had accepted her father so readily. She'd hoped that this father-daughter meeting would go well, but this was ridiculus. It was ten o'clock at night, for heaven's sake! And Michelle was still bouncing off the walls! Sara sighed.

"Ooookay, sweetie, time for bed!"

"Oooooohhh, do I _have_ to?"

"Yes."

"How come?"

" 'Cause I'm the Mom and I say so." She paused, thinking. "Your Daddy would want you to be good, wouldn't he?"

Michelle's eyes widened. She hadn't considered this.

Within five minutes, she was in her pajamas and in bed, waiting to be tucked in. Sara came into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the mattress, stroking her daughter's silky hair. " 'Night, baby."

" 'Night, Mama."

********

The next morning found Michelle standing by the fire escape window in her pajamas, peering out into the hustling, bustling city of New York. She saw something dark moving out of the corner of her left eye, and craned her neck to see. Her eyes widened. She turned and flew to the nearby bed, leaping onto the mattress and tackling the lump beneath the covers.

"Oooof!" Sara's breath left her in a rush as the small body of her daughter landed with a thump on her back. "Go back to sleep, runt. It's early and I don't have to work today."

"Get up, Mama!!" Michelle squealed. "He's here!!"

"Who?" she mumbled into the pillow her face was currently buried in.

"Daddy!!! So get _up!!"_ Michelle yanked the covers off of her mother as the woman sat straight up, the young girl's words finally registering in her head. Michelle scooted off of the bed and ran to the window. Unlocking it, she let the waiting man open it, then tugged him eagerly into the room.

"Come on!" she cried, dragging him to the bed. "Mama wants to see you, too!"

Sara gazed up at Ian as he neared the bed, then moved to embrace him fiercely.

"I…I missed you. We both did," she said as she pulled back a little. She searched his eyes for a moment, then, forgetting their audience, she leaned in and captured his mouth with hers. Their bodies fused together as they put all of the passion that had built up over the years into this single touch. They were pressed together tightly, her arms around his neck and his about her slim waist.

"Ewww! That's gross!"

The disgusted voice pulled them both out of their private world, and they looked down at the little girl. She had her arms crossed and she was glaring up at them both with a vengeance.

"Damn. She spends far too much time with you. Now I'll have two of you on my hands."

One eyebrow rising, Sara leaned back in his arms. "Will that be a problem?"

He stole a quick kiss from her, then said, "I hope not." His eyes betrayed the laughter he held inside.

"Stop that right now!" Michelle now stood with her fists on her hips, imitating her mother's most intimidating stance perfectly.

The two parents exchanged glances.

"I _really_ need to get her away from you."

Sara's arms were quite suddenly left empty as Ian was ripped from her grasp and propelled across the room by their very annoyed daughter. She sat him down in one of the kitchen chairs, tore up to her room, and raced back down with a handful of papers clutched in her fist. She scooted up onto his lap, then began to take him on a tour of her artistic creations. He "oohed" and "aahed" at the proper times, admiring her lovely drawings as Sara began to prepare breakfast for the three of them.

A short while later, after they'd eaten, Ian sat on the sofa reading to Michelle. Sara finished with the dishes, wiped her hands on the towel beside the sink, and moved to sit in the chair adjacent to the sofa.

Ian looked up at her and she smiled softly. "You're a natural."

He grinned back. "Thank you."

********

REVIEW!!!!! REVIEW!!!!!

Do you want more? Was this good? _Please_ let me know what you think!! I would _really_ like to know if you want me to continue!! Reviews = next chapter


	7. Interlude

AN: This chapter contains a scene of adult content. Please do not read if you are offended by such. Thank you. ~BelovedOne

SAVE THE LAST DANCE 

**Chapter 7**

Much later, as Sara tucked a very tired Michelle into bed, Ian came up behind his beloved and slid his arms around her waist. He kissed her neck, just below her left ear, and her head lolled back against his shoulder as she enjoyed the feelings that flooded her body at his gentle touch. Turning in his arms, she kissed him lightly, then took his hand and led him out of the room.

They entered her bedroom, and she brought him to her bed, her emerald eyes glittering. He sat down on the edge of the mattress, his hazel eyes watching her intently. She pulled her navy blue NYPD sweatshirt off and straddled his legs. Her mouth covered his, and they fell backward, Sara lying atop Ian's chest. Hands were everywhere, tugging at clothing and skimming over warm flesh. She trailed a line of kisses down his chest, and he rolled them over so that he was on top, then nipped at the soft, velvety skin of her neck and shoulders. She shuddered, running her hands up and down his back. Their movements grew more passionate, more loving, until they were intimately joined beneath the tangled sheets. They began to move faster, their bodies rising together toward pure ecstasy. Their forms arched in twin movements, overcome as they were with the pangs of this second-time love-making. They collapsed in a heap on the bed, their bodies still joined. They fell asleep there, in each other's arms, happy and satiated.

********

When they awoke several hours later, Ian pulled out of his beloved Sara's arms, leaving her feeling empty as he gave her a sorrowful look, dressed, kissed her good-bye, and left for Irons' estate.

********

REVIEW!!!!! REVIEW!!!!!

2nd AN: I know this chapter was _extremely_ short, but the next one will be longer. Promise. But another chapter will only be posted if you guys _review!!!!!_ So please review!!!!! If I receive enough feedback (and Mountain Dew) for my muse, then I'll post another chapter soon!!!!! I'll even make you a deal…I'll go drink some Mountain Dew if you'll review! Deal?! Okay!! Thank you for your feedback!__


	8. Family

**SAVE THE LAST DANCE**

**Chapter 8**

Sara watched Ian go and sighed. She wanted him to stay, but she knew that it was not possible. Irons would find out that they were back together, and Ian might be hurt. Or worse. She shivered. She rubbed her arms briskly to warm them and rid them of the gooseflesh that had popped up, noting that the Witchblade was glowing softly. As she listened more closely, she realized that it was also humming. She touched the red stone lightly, then rolled out of bed and pulled on a t-shirt. She wandered into the kitchen and brewed some coffee. Cradling a fresh mug of the steaming liquid a few minutes later, she went out to the fire escape and sank down against the windowsill, sipping the hot beverage. She stared up at the starry sky, wondering silently what else was in store for her. After a long time, she returned to bed, sleeping fitfully until morning, when she awoke to find herself clutching Ian's pillow to her body, her nose buried in the sweet scent of his cologne that still lingered there.

********

She curled her body against his, one arm flung across his chest, her head tucked into the space between his left shoulder and his chin. The fingers of her other hand rested above her head, tangled in his dark locks. She knew he'd have to leave soon, but she just lay there, enjoying this rare moment of peace until…

"MAMA!! DADDY!!" A small form hit them with the force of a freight train as Michelle sprang up onto the bed, landing sideways over them both. "Oooh, that was fun—I'm gonna do it again—!"

"Oh, no, you're not!" Before she could move, her father leapt from the bed, grabbed her by one ankle, and turned her upside down, holding her a foot above the floor.

"AAAAHHHH!!" she shrieked. "Daddy, let me down!!"

He moved so that she hung over the bed, then released her. She landed in a heap on top of her mother. He fell onto the bed after her, tickling her as she giggled madly. Sara scooted up and out of the way as they rolled about the mattress, laughing. She just shook her head and grinned, finally feeling like she had a real family.

********

Sara stared, shocked beyond all belief.

Not now. This couldn't happen now.

She was eleven weeks pregnant.

The doctor pointed out the shadowy shape of the fetus on the monitor before her, and Sara gaped. _How could this happen? I _can't_ be _pregnant._ Not now. Not now. Please, not now._

She closed her eyes briefly, the consequences of this news flashing through her mind. _Irons could find out about our being together, he might hurt Ian or Michelle…or the baby. What if he hurts the baby? Oh, God. Oh, God._

********

Sara was waiting anxiously for Ian when he came through the door of the apartment later that night. He moved to embrace her, then stopped when he saw that her beautiful green eyes were missing their usual sparkle.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked, becoming concerned.

"Ian, I've not been feeling well lately, and I went in for a checkup at my doctor's, and I found something out that's both good and bad." She swallowed hard.

"What is it?" He took a step closer to her, enfolding her in his arms.

She buried her face in his shoulder, her voice muffled as she said, "Ian, I'm pregnant."

"You—you are? That's wonderful—but how? When? We've used protection every—"

"Not every time. Not the first time. Not eleven weeks ago." With each 'not,' Sara pounded her fist against his other shoulder lightly in frustration. How could she have been so _stupid?_ How? Well, it didn't matter now; she was having Ian's baby. She was—

"Ian, I'm having your baby!" she cried softly, amazed. She pulled away from him a little ways. "What are we gonna tell Michelle?"

He looked down at her, pride and happiness overflowing in his expression. "The truth."

"Oh, I love you, Ian!"

"I love you, too, Sara. I love you, too."

********

Before long, they told the big-sister-to-be the good news. She was ecstatic over the idea of having a new baby sister or brother. The couple wasn't sure how they were going to handle Irons, however. Fortunately, he went out of town on a three-week-long business trip, leaving Ian to watch over the house and the Wielder on his own. Ian stayed with Sara every night, and every day that she didn't work, they spent together. Ian met his daughter at the bus stop every weekday, and watched her until her mother returned from work. Sara had told Captain Siri that she was once again pregnant, and had been placed on desk duty as a result. She grumbled about having to do paperwork all day, and neither Danny nor Jake would tease her about it. Danny was too smart for that; Jake apparently knew enough to follow Danny's lead in anything regarding Sara. In any case, he managed to keep all of his limbs fully intact—for the time being. When Irons came back, Ian returned to his nightly ritual of visiting his family before heading back to the mansion he shared with Irons. He and Sara had long late-night conversations about what they were going to do about the whole Irons situation, but neither of them could come up with a feasable plan of action. Sara, meanwhile, had told the rest of her friends—namely, Vicky Po and Gabriel Bowman—about the child she carried. Both were delighted for her. A few more weeks passed, puncuated occasionally by slight morning sickness, though it ws not nearly as bad as it had been with Michelle. The Witchblade also took to glowing at the most inopportune times—while in public, speaking to people about cases—and she had taken to wearing long-sleeved shirts. She had to pull out some of her maternity clothes from her first pregnancy when her jeans would no longer zip up, as well as going out shopping for a few new things. By the time she was five months along, she already felt like a blimp. It wasn't until her next checkup that she discovered why.

"Well, Sara, how are we feeling today?" her doctor chirped cheerfully.

"Like an elephant," Sara replied.

"Let's take a look at how you're coming along, then. You do seem to be gaining weight a little more rapidly than you did last time." She smeared the cold, clear jelly over Sara's stomach and began to slide the tool across her skin. At first, all Sara could see on the screen was darkness, but then, a foot appeared, followed by another foot, two legs, a torso, arms, and a head. "There you are. Would you like to hear your baby's heartbeat?" Sara nodded. The other woman turned up the volume on the machine, and a soft _woosh woosh woosh_ filled the room.

"It sounds faster than last time. Is that normal?" Sara asked, levering herself up on her elbows and peering at the monitor.

"Sometimes, yes. It is, however, a little faster than what we've seen so far. One moment." She slid the tool to the other side of Sara's belly, moving it around until a pair of feet came into view. One gave a sharp kick, making Sara jerk slightly. "You've got a strong little one in there, haven't you?"

"Sure seems like it. Wait—what's that?"

"I don't know…" She moved incrimentally to one side, and the shadow became clear. "It's…it's a…a third foot!"

Not yet understanding, Sara's brow furrowed. "Third? How can there be three?" Even as she asked her question, the scanner picked up something else. Sara gasped. Two heads were bowed together, one with the beginning nub of a thumb touching its mouth.

"Congratulations, Sara—you're having twins!"

Her mouth fell open.

********

Sara was sitting up in bed, holding an ultrasound picture in her hand when Ian climbed in through the unlocked window and settled onto the bed beside her. "Hey, Babe. Something wrong?" He stroked her hair lightly. He loved to touch her thick, silky mane whenever he could get his hands on it, and tonight was no exception.

Sara handed him the picture. As he turned to her questioningly, she said, "Daddy, meet the twins."

********

_B1: So? What do you think? Is this still any good? Should I write more? Should I post more? Let me know what you think, and if you want me to, I'll put more up!_

_I hope you've enjoyed this so far!_

_~BelovedOne_


	9. Pickles & Ice Cream

AN: Yep, that's right, here it is! Chapter 9 is finally up! I know I left you hanging at the end of the last chapter, but that's how I keep you coming back! (at least, I hope I do!!) Well, enjoy!!!

**ALSO: Please be aware that I will not be able to post much for ANY of my stories in the near (and possibly distant) future, due to the confiscation of my laptop computer (which holds all of my files, and which I use solely for my writing) by my parents. They do not understand how important my writing is to me, and so cannot see why it is that I desire to do it so much. I apologize profusely for the inconvenience, although I assure you two things~1) I will try my very hardest to get new chapters up whenever I can, and 2) I am as much inconvenienced by this problem as you are. Once again, I sincerely apologize, and wish you all the best of luck with your own writing. And one more thing—in order to keep my spirits up until my laptop is returned to me, will you all PLEASE review and tell me what you think on ALL of my Witchblade stories—I might add that I also have a Witchblade-Star Trek Voyager Crossover called "Things Gone Awry In The Universe". It's just a silly, nonsense fic that a friend and I are writing under the penname BelovedSunrise. Please visit if interested. I will also one day get a site of my own up, for both my writing and others' work, as well. If you are still with me (and still awake), I praise you. If you are not, I don't blame you. Now…ON TO THE STORY!!!!!**

**SAVE THE LAST DANCE**

**Chapter 9**

Sara smoothed her hands over her belly, which was left bare by the open-midriff shirt she wore, tied in the front. A pair of hip-hugger shorts were pulled up to the base of her round, seven-months-pregnant stomach. She felt as if someone had blown up a hot-air balloon in her abdomen, and then grown a giant pumpkin in there, too. She sighed heavily, then levered herself carefully out of the chair she'd sunk into earlier, groaning as her lower back protested to the added weight caused by standing upright. She moved slowly into the kitchen, making herself a cup of hot chocolate. She stared mournfully at the empty coffee pot as she sipped the sweet beverage. She felt one, then two feet connect with the wall of her abdomen and winced. These two were strong little buggers, all right. They would probably take after their father. Speak of the Devil…

She felt two hands touch her lower back, massaging gently but firmly, and melted into his arms, almost purring with pleasure.

"I am _so_ butter in your hands. Keep doing that, and you'll only have a puddle left on the ground when you get done."

He smiled into her hair. "Then maybe I should stop."

She growled at him.

"Or not."

"Mmm, that feels so good—lower…oh, yeah, there you go, right there, oh…" His expert hands put her to sleep within minutes, and he carried her into the bedroom, then went down to retrieve Michelle from the bus stop, thinking the whole way of Irons' reaction to Ian telling him that she was pregnant. He had conviently forgotten to say that he himself was the father, saying instead that he didn't know who had fathered the "child". He also fibbed on both the fact that the "child" was actually "children" and that he was quite sure that it was a boy, incapable of wielding the Witchblade. Ian, in fact, did not know whether the twins were males, females, or one of each, and he didn't care—having healthy babies was all that mattered. Irons had looked deliriously happy when he'd heard the "with child" part, but when he'd heard "it'll probably be a boy," he'd turned downright dour. But he seemed to believe Ian completely. Not that Ian had to worry about that for much longer. He had something up his sleeve that even Sara didn't know about. He grinned as he thought about it, lifting Michelle into his arms for a great big bear hug when she leapt off the bus to meet him.

"Daddy!" she squealed excitedly, flinging her little arms around his neck and holding on for dear life. He laughed and hugged her again.

"Hey, sweetheart. Did you have a good day at school?"

"Yes, I…" And she proceeded to tell him every detail of her day, as usual. And, as usual, he listened intently, interested in everything she said. They walked home hand in hand. He hushed her as they reached the door, and they crept inside. They needn't have been quiet, however. Sara was standing with her back against the counter, a container of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other. When she heard the door open, she spun around, looking guilty. Craning his head around her, he saw a jar of pickles on the counter, the top off and a line of dribbled juice trailing between the container and the woman beside it.

"Eating pickles and ice cream again?"

She tried to be surrepticious in pushing the jar of pickles under the cupboard, out of view, and threw the spoon in the sink, scooting over to the fridge and tucking the ice cream into the freezer.

"No."

"Uh-huh. Right. You're believable."

She glared at him.

Michelle looked up at her daddy and whispered, "You'd better be careful, 'else Mama'll get you."

He eyed her. "For such a young girl, you sure give wise advice."

She nodded solemnly. "I learned fast."

He raised an eyebrow at the woman he loved.

Finally, she asked, "What?"

********

Ian stared down at the object he held in his palm, trying to refrain from hyperventilating. He was about to change his life…for the better, he hoped.

He took a deep breath…in, out, in, out…and entered the apartment. He found Sara curled into a ball—or as close as she could get to it, given her current physical restrictions—on the sofa.

"Sara?" he whispered. He nudged her gently and said, in a slightly louder voice, "Sara?"

Her green eyes flew open, and, from the momentary look in them, he began to wonder if perhaps he was an endangered species. As she recognized him, though, she sat up and hugged him, her belly pressed against his ribs—so tightly, in fact, that he could feel their children moving against him. He pulled away from her, reaching into his coat pocket for a hidden object. She gasped as she caught sight of the small velvet box he held, and looked up at him, a question in her eyes. A question that was about to be answered.

As he opened the box to reveal a glittering diamond ring, he said, "Sara Magdalene Pezzini, please do me the great honor of becoming my wife." A range of expressions flitted across her face, and both of her hands moved the caress her belly in an unconscious gesture. After a moment, she looked up at him, decision made.

"Yes. Yes, Ian, I'll marry you!" She threw herself into his arms, kissing him with unbridled passion, her green eyes fiery and bright.

As his lungs began to protest to the lack of oxygen being delivered to them, he pulled away. "Whoa there, let's save some of that for the honeymoon. Besides, someone's gotta go get the munchkin, and you look pretty comfortable right where you are, so I'm guessing that I've been elected to do so." He winked at her and left to get their little girl. He came back to find her fast asleep once more, the ring on her left ring finger and the box clutched in her right hand.

He smiled.

********

Ian straightened his jacket, then strode purposefully into Irons' office.

"Sir?"

The blonde man looked up from whatever paperwork he was reading. "Yes?"

"I wish to inform you of my immediate resignation as your personal chief of security. If you wish me to remain in your employment, it will be on a solely _legal_ basis, nothing else. I will no longer kill or maim for you, I will no longer be your henchman. I will remain only as a regular employee of my position, with the same pay and benefits. If you do not agree with this, then I will leave, and not return. I am going to marry Sara. The child—_children_—she carries are mine. We will raise Michelle and the twins together. Alone. You will not interfere in any way without our direct permission. Is this all completely understood? _Sir?"_

For the first time in his unnaturally long life, Kenneth Irons was rendered speechless. Amazed at his protégé's sudden show of confidence, he allowed Ian everything he'd asked for—or, rather, what he'd commanded. And so, Irons let go any chance he had of getting close to the Wielder—something he never would have succeeded at attaining. Ian worked as his regular head of security, and he and Sara began to make wedding plans for after the birth of the twins.

Everything was coming together at last for the Pezzini-Nottingham family.

And as much as he still had an insatiable desire for the Witchblade, Irons allowed the Wielder and Protector a normal life—as normal as it could get, anyway.

********

REVIEW!!!!! I know the end of this chapter is kind of odd, and it may seem to you all that it deviates slightly from the normal flow of the story, but it just came out that way. Sorry. And Irons—I _know_ he wouldn't just give up that easily, but I just didn't know how else to get around that situation…Ian's speech was kinda nice, though, right? Long, but nice. Anyhow, please tell me what you all think of this, and if I should do more. REVIEW!!!!!


	10. Names

SAVE THE LAST DANCE 

**Chapter 10**

Sara was currently reclining in her favorite piece of "furniture". That is, she was stretched across her fiancée's lap, relaxing as they talked. Michelle was beside them with pen and paper, recording the results of this important discussion.

"We have to come up with two girl names and two boy names, since we could end up with one of each or both the same," Sara commented.

"All right—girl names. What was your mother's name?"

"Hmm, I don't really want to go down that road."

"Grandmother's name?"

She smacked him on the arm. "Ian!"

"Daddy." Michelle poked him in the arm and he turned to her. "Careful. She's dangerous."

"I'll do that, pumpkin. Thanks for the warning." He gazed at his bride-to-be intently. "See? I told you she was a smart one."

She smacked him again.

"Ow! What was that for?!"

"Being a smart-ass."

Michelle giggled suddenly, and both looked over at her. "What?"

"Daddy, she said the A-word!" Her brow furrowed, an almost comical imitation of the expression her mother sometimes used. "Did you say any names yet?"

"No, sweetie, your mother and I haven't quite agreed on anything yet."

"Well, you'd better hurry up, 'cause Mama's gonna have the babies soon." She patted her mother's belly with one small hand.

"And how did you get to be such an expert?"

"It showed me."

"What showed you?"

"Your Witchblade. I saw you with the babies, they were wrapped up in blankets and you were holding one while Daddy held the other one."

Her parents exchanged glances. "Has the Witchblade shown you anything else, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy. It let me see what day they were born."

"And?"

"I'm not s'posed to tell. I'm only allowed to tell you it's really, really soon."

"Really really?"

The girl nodded solemnly. _"Really_ really."

"Then I guess we'd better get down to business."

********

AN: Short chapter, I know. But the next one'll be longer—and it'll be posted soon—if I get enough positive reviews. So please tell me what you think! Thanks!


	11. Really, Really Soon

AN: I know, I know, enough with the short chapters! I'll try and make them longer—this one'll be a lot longer than the last one! I promise!

SAVE THE LAST DANCE 

**Chapter 11**

"Ian?"

A grunt answered the whisper.

"Ian!"

He rolled over onto his stomach, his voice muffled as he spoke into the pillow. "Go 'way. I don' wanna ge' up righ' now."

"Ian!!" This time the hiss was accompanied by a sharp elbow to his ribs, and he cried out.

"Ow! Wha' was tha' for?" His voice was sleepy as he rubbed his eyes. "Wha's wrong?"

He squinted at the shadowy form of his beloved as she attempted to maneuver herself into a standing position. He heard her groan softly and saw her hunch over slightly. His eyes popped open as he scrambled up out of the mess of sheets and blankets and raced to her side. Kneeling at her feet, he looked up at her face, worry creasing his handsome features. "Baby? Are you all right?"

She grimaced and shook her head. "Don't be concerned; I'm only in labor."

At her words, he sprang up from the floor, shot into Michelle's room and woke her, and ran back in to his and Sara's bedroom. He grabbed the bag they'd packed for this particular occasion, called for Michelle to get her bag, and scooped Sara up into his arms, shooting out of the apartment with their daughter on his tail. He laid his precious cargo carefully in the back seat of his car, plunked Michelle down in the front passenger seat, the two bags secured on her lap, and circled the vehicle to drop into the driver's seat. He started the engine, threw it into reverse, then nearly plastered them all to the back windshield of the car when he hit the gas, slamming the pedal all the way to the floor. Fortunately, there were no squad cars on the route he took, or he would most likely have ended up with a whopping speeding ticket. They arrived at the hospital in record time, where Sara was whisked up to Maternity, her daughter and fiancé right behind her.

Later, as Sara rested between contractions, Michelle said, "See? Told you it was really, really soon."

"It would've helped it you'd have told us that it would only be three hours until it happened," Sara muttered dryly.

The girl shrugged, then asked, "Can I tell them their names when they come?"

Sara smiled. "Sure, sweetie."

"Daddy, I'm kind of hungry. Can we get something to eat for breakfast, please?"

"I—" He was cut off as another spasm of pain rolled over Sara's body, and her hand closed over his in a crushing grip. His eyes nearly burst out of his skull as the bones of his right hand were slowly decimated by his very pregnant, _very_ vengeful fiancé. "Maybe—later," he managed to get out through gritted teeth.

"Ian Nottingham, I'm going to _kill_ you for this!!!" Michelle stared at her mother. This had been her worst outburst yet. "I _mean_ it!!"

When the mother-to-be (again) calmed down, Ian took her to get something to bring back to the room and eat.

This was going to be a long day.

********

AN: More to come soon. _If_ I get enough feedback!


	12. Special Delivery

AN: At long last, the birth of the twins! (Oh, and I _do_ realize that I made her pregnancy the "normal" 9-month length, when usually she is portrayed as having a shortened pregnancy (somewhere around 6 months, I think), courtesy of the Witchblade). Also, I have never given birth, so I have taken liberties in my descriptions. Hopefully, I am close to reality.

SAVE THE LAST DANCE 

**Chapter 12**

"Dammit, get that thing away from me!! I don't want it!!"

"Ma'am, it's good for the babies—"

"I don't _want_ it! They'll be out soon, so why bother?!"

"Ma'am, I must ask you _not_ to pull out your IV again. This is the third time I've had to replace it in your arm."

"Damn straight. I won't pull it out again, 'cause it won't be going back in. Period. I got through the last one without it, and I'll get through it this time. So _leave!!!"_ The nurse left immediately, looked affronted and muttering something about "stubborn patients".

Ian sighed deeply. "Sara, why don't you just let her put it in?"

She crossed her arms and stared him down menacingly. "Because it bothers the hell out of me! And-and-and I just don't see the need for it—oh! Oooooh…" She winced, hissing as pain rolled over her in a wave, making her arch her back as her muscles constricted. He soothed her gently, easing her down from it as the pain faded, only to return less than a minute later, even worse than before. It continued like this for nearly an hour before the doctor finally announced that she was ready to push. Ian took Michelle outside, leaving her with her Uncle Danny while he returned to his lady's side. She groaned, a deep sound that reached his very bones, as she pushed with all her might.

"One…two…three…four…five…six…seven…"

"Count _faster!!"_

"Eight-nine-ten," he finished quickly as her grip on his hand increased exponentially.

"AAAAHHH!!!!!" She cried out as she felt her insides spread to accommodate the passage of her child.

"It's crowning! I can see the head. Okay, Sara, you can stop pushing for just a moment. Would you like to feel the head?"

She nodded eagerly, and he took her hand, guiding it down to rest on the emerging mound that was her baby's head. As her fingertips grazed wet, downy hair, a single tear rolled down her cheek. She was going to be a mother again. By the end of this long day, she would hold her two newest children in her arms. She was then seized by another contraction, at which she was instructed to continue her efforts to expel her child from her body. She complied, straining as her baby rushed to join them. She felt a strange hollowness deep within her as her child quite suddenly slipped from her body.

The doctor lifted the squalling newborn up so that the new parents could see their daughter. "It's a girl!"

Ian kissed Sara's temple as they both gazed at this tiny miracle. "No wonder she was in such a hurry," he joked. "She's her mother's daughter." She ignored the comment, watching intently as her baby girl was wrapped and placed in her arms.

"Ian, we have a daughter. We have a little baby girl!"

"Yes, my love. And she'll be as beautiful as her mother. She already is."

She looked up at him. "Here, take her. Go show her to her big sister."

He smiled and took the tiny bundle, leaving the room briefly.

Out in the hallway, as he pulled back the folds of the blanket to let her face peek out, Michelle let out a happy shriek. "She's so pretty! Can I hold her? Please?"

"Not quite yet, honey. In a little bit, you can hold them both, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy."

"That's a good girl."

He quickly went back into the room, where Sara was preparing for the second child to make his or her appearance. It was not until an hour and fifteen minutes later that this twin finally came into view.

"Sara, would you like to feel this one's head, too?" She nodded, her attention now divided between the infant leaving her body, and the one lying in the small bed across the room, being examined by nurses. She touched the slick head, and felt another contraction begin to creep up her body. She groaned.

"Ian, this one _definitely_ takes after you. It even takes it's time to come—"

"The head is out! One more good one, and you'll be done, Sara!"

She bore down with all of her strength, but still the baby did not come.

"Your baby doesn't seem to want to come yet," the doctor said as she supported the child's fragile head and neck. "I guess you'll need one or two more good pushes before this one arrives fully."

Sara nodded and ground her teeth as she moaned her way through three more pushes. Then, finally, she felt her child leave her, leaving another hollow space deep within her.

"Congratulations, it a boy!" The doctor held this one up, too, and then settled him in his mother's left arm, while Ian placed his sister in the other. Now that she was dry, they could see that the dusting of dark hair across the top of her head was the chestnut of her mother's.

"Ian, we have a son! And look, he's got your hair!"

"I know. He's beautiful."

"Handsome, isn't he? Just like someone else I know."

"Oh, really? And would I know this handsome man of yours?"

She shoved him playfully. "You are _so_ bad!"

He nuzzled her neck, his breath tickling her skin as he spoke. "But it feels so _good."_

"Go get your daughter." He started to lift the infant from her arm. "Nooooo, your _other_ daughter."

"Oh. Right."

He brought Michelle in a moment later, and she ran to the bed, scrambling up to sit beside her mother. She gazed down at the sleepy twins, admiring their tiny faces and delicate hands.

She looked up at Sara. "Mama, can I tell them their names now?"

"Sure, baby. Go ahead."

********

AN: Next chapter will follow upon receiving enough feedback!

(Are you happy, Eli?)


	13. Meet The Twins

AN: I know, I'm evil for leaving off like that, but I just _had_ to do it!!!!! It's just _so_ much fun!!!!! (inserts maniacal laugh here) Well, here we go…

SAVE THE LAST DANCE 

**Chapter 13**

"Uncle Danny, Aunt Lee, Aunt Vicky, Uncle Gabe, Uncle Jake, meet the twins." Michelle touched her little sister's head gently. "This one's name is Emma Noel." She let her brother clutch her pinky finger in his diminutive fist. "And this one is Christian James, after his daddy and his grandpa."

As her friends crowded round, Sara proudly displayed her newest accomplishment, glowing with that special light that only a new mother could have. The new parents knew now why the Witchblade had glowed so often during the course of Sara's pregnancy; one of the twins was a female, which gave her the ability to connect with the Witchblade, however unknowingly. Sara reached around her daughter to her right wrist, pulling off the silver and red bracelet that had temporarily resided there for safekeeping while Sara was giving birth. Emma yawned, her rosebud mouth stretching wide open, and her tiny, pert nose and smooth forehead wrinkling. Everyone "oohed" and "aahed" over this adorable movement, and loved it even more when Christian added his two cents worth, and sneezed with a tiny _"choo!"_ and proceeded to coo his way deeper into his audience's hearts. They both kicked their tiny feet and waved their tiny fists. Michelle looked on in amusement.

"Mama? Did people act like this when _I_ was a baby?"

"Yes."

"And did I try to do…_that?"_ She pointed at Emma, who was currently working on shoving her entire fist into her mouth.

"All the time."

"Oh."

"I thought it was adorable. Everyone did."

"You did?"

"Yep."

"They're cute, too."

"Well, yeah! Look who their daddy is!"

"You're beautiful, too, Mama."

"I must say I agree with you. Your mama is _very_ beautiful." Ian touched his lips to Sara's in gentle, chaste kisses again and again.

"You only—say that—'cause you—love me." He kept interrupting her with his 'doctoring'.

"Of course," he said between kisses. "Why else would I say it?"

"Oh, _you!!!!!"_

_"OW!!!!!"_

"I told you not to make her mad, Daddy." Michelle cradled her little brother, whom she'd rescued from her mother, freeing up an arm for Sara to smack Ian with. "I told you."

********

AN: PLEASE review and tell me what you think! You've all been great so far, keep 'em comin'!!!!! MORE REVIEWS!!!!! PLEEEEEEEEASE!!!!! You know I'll love you for it! (And besides—if you want more, you'll have to tell me, or you'll not get anything until you do!)


	14. Coming Home

AN: SO sorry this took so long!!!!! I was a bit…distracted by some other issues I have—and you can take that any way you want to!!!!! (maniacal laughter heard in background) Ahem. Sorry. Yeah. Well, um…anyways, I just want to apologize…I was also working on some other stories, too, and got kinda caught up in those. Maybe you'd like to read them? Just check my profile, if you're interested. Oh, yes—I'll try hard to update my other stories soon!!!!! SAVE THE LAST DANCE Chapter 14 

**"Coming Home"**

Sara opened the door to their apartment, the feel of home pervading her senses. She set her son's carrier on the floor in the entry and scooped him up out of his little cocoon of blankets. Cradling him in her left arm, she gazed down at him adoringly, then looked up at the rest of her family.

"Michelle, would you like to show your brother and sister where they'll be sleeping?"

The girl nodded excitedly. "C'mon!"

She led them into the master bedroom, where two brand-new cradles stood at the foot of Sara and Ian's bed. Smiling gently, the "new" parents settled their sleepy children into their respective beds, then tip-toed out of the room, turning back only to motion for Michelle to follow. The proud big sister was standing between the cradles, staring down, first into the soft pink one, and then into the baby blue one, admiring the two tiny new additions to her steadily growing family. Turning, she skipped happily—but quietly!—out of the room, her heart filled almost to bursting. She had a daddy now, and a baby brother and a baby sister. What more could she possibly ask for?

As they tucked their daughter into bed a few minutes later, she looked up at them, her green eyes glowing.

"Thank you, Mama and Daddy," she said softly.

"For what?" Sara asked, tucking an errant strand of her dark hair behind one ear.

"For you," she replied before drifting off to sleep.

Sara placed a tender kiss on her forehead. "You're welcome, baby."

********

Sara tugged on Ian's left arm, pulling him down onto the sofa beside her. As soon as he was comfortable, she situated herself in his lap, snuggling against his warm chest. Inhaling his unique, deliciously spicy scent, Sara sighed contentedly.

"Ian?"

"Hm?"

"We need to talk."

"About…?" he prompted.

"Us. Life. Our kids. Everything."

He remained silent, bidding her continue.

"What happened, exactly, all those years ago?"

Ian inhaled deeply, letting the breath out as he stroked her hair. "When my mas—when Mr. Irons discovered what I'd done, he sent me away to an all-boys military school. I returned three years later, and he greeted me with a vicious beating that left me nearly dead and badly scarred. He told me—he told me that I was stupid to think that I loved you, and even more so to think that you might love me back. I knew better, though." He hugged his fiancée tighter as he continued, "Knowing that we loved one another was the only thing that kept me sane all those years. It was the only reason that I survived all of his 'training,' and his brutal beatings. He never told me, though, that you were pregnant. If I had known, I would've come to your side, despite his rantings. I love you, Sara; I always have, and I always will."

The Witchblade purred happily as Sara fingered her engagement ring. "When do you think we should be married?"

"When do you want to?"

"It's your choice, too, you know."

"Yes, and my choice is to let _you_ decide."

"How 'bout in August?"

The sound of the small, soft voice behind them made them turn quickly. To their surprise, Michelle stood in the doorway to her room, her hair mussed by sleep and her nightgown hitched up a bit on one side.

"What are you doing up, baby?" Sara questioned, climbing out of Ian's lap as they both moved to crouch beside their eldest daughter.

"I had a bad dream. I couldn't fall back to sleep again, and I heard you talking about the wedding, so I decided to come out here with you. Is that okay?"

"Sure it is, sweetheart." Ian lifted his precious girl form the floor, bringing her to sit between them on the sofa.

"Now, what were you saying about August?" Sara asked.

"Well, that way the wedding would be in the summer, when it's warm and I'm out of school. We could have it on…August 15th, ten days before my birthday! That way, you could go on your honeymoon, and we could stay at Aunt Lee and Uncle Danny's house, or maybe Grandpa Joe's, and then, when you get back, we can have my birthday party!"

The two parents looked at each other over the top of the child's head, amazed.

"Ian?"

He shrugged. "Fine by me, as long as—"

"I like it. Let's do it."

A wail interrupted them, and Sara shot up, rushing into the bedroom and plucking Emma from her bed in an effort to keep her from waking her brother.

Too late.

Christian, too, began to cry, just as Ian swooped in to retrieve him. But before he could reach their son, his sister scooped him out of the cradle, holding him close. Both infants' cries weakened, then stopped altogether as their big sister began to sing "Rock-a-Bye Baby" in a soft, crooning voice. Amazingly enough, both were calm in just a few minutes, staring up at the faces of the people holding them solemnly. Knowing they must be hungry, Sara settled herself onto the large bed, propping fluffy pillows up on either side of her. Carefully, she unbuttoned her loose shirt partway and guided the child she held to her meal. Once they had established a rhythm of sorts, Sara gestured for Michelle to bring her son forward. She did so, and soon he was suckling greedily alongside his sister. As Sara relaxed into this activity, Ian rose and took Michelle back to bed. He returned a few minutes later, reclining beside his bride-to-be and observing the beautiful picture laid out before him. Sara looked over to find him staring at her.

"Honey" Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Mm, just thinking."

She raised an eyebrow at the peculiar expression on his face. "You know, that could be dangerous to your health."

"Mm-hm," he said distractedly, nodding slowly. Then, registering her words, he looked up at her, baffled. _"What?!"_

********

AN: Please REVIEW!!!!!


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